The bookstore was packed. Not surprising I supposed. They always were. The crowds pressed against one another, clutching copies of my new release in their hands. As I took my seat, they broke out into applause, as if I had performed a trick, rather than made them wait an extra fifteen minutes while I desperately gathered my nerves in the store’s back office.

I forced a smile to my lips as I scanned the room. Many of the readers had come in costume tonight—probably due to the close proximity to Halloween. There were dozens of Maisies in her signature flowing red gown. And almost as many Jonathans, in their dashing Victorian formalwear.

I felt a slow ache grow, deep inside as I remembered how magical it used to feel—to see the crowds dressed up like this. To know my simple words had inspired such devotion—such sincere fandom.

But now it just seemed like a joke somehow. Kids playing at dress-up, with no idea what they were really doing. What was really out there and how they acted in real life. As Logan had said, real vampires did not dress as holdouts from Victorian England. They lived amongst us, dressed like us. Of course they would want to fit in. The last thing they needed was some ridiculous costume to draw attention to their pale skin. Their catlike movement. Their “otherness.”

“Are you ready?” Darla asked, peering at me with concern. I blushed realizing I must have appeared in a trance. I’d been practically a zombie all day and I knew I was beginning to worry her. And so I nodded at her, then cleared my throat. Leaning into the microphone to begin my talk. Trying to make this as normal as possible. Not to mention quick. The sooner I got back to my apartment the better.

I gave a brief introduction, then I read from my book. Then Darla opened it up to questions and I answered best I could without giving away any spoilers. But my heart was not in any of it. In fact, it was almost as if someone else was in my body, going through the motions and I was having some out-of-body experience watching from above. It all seemed so stupid, so mundane. So pointless.

Logan was out there somewhere. A real vampire. And I was wasting my life celebrating a cardboard cutout with fangs.

Was he okay? I wondered for about the billionth time today as I finished the Q&A and Darla invited readers to come forward to get their books signed. He had mentioned a deal he’d made. One to keep me safe. But he had said nothing of his own safety. What if he’d turned himself in? What if he was going to face trial? What if he was convicted of killing that other vampire and was sentenced to eternal death for doing it?

I would never know. I could live my entire life not knowing what happened to him.

Except…I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. I needed to know. To know he was safe. That he had made his case and was no longer accused. That he was out there, somewhere, cooking and singing karaoke and living his best vampire life. Even if we couldn’t be together, I needed to know he was okay. After all, it was my fault he was in this mess to begin with.

I felt the girl standing before me shift uncomfortably. I looked up. “Um,” I stammered. “What’s your name again?” She was dressed like Maisie. But her costume was cheap. Homemade. She had gotten the buttons wrong. I shook my head. So what? It was just a silly costume.

“Mandy,” she said, looking a little annoyed. I blushed as I realized her name was already in the book, a little sticky note in Darla’s handwriting. This was how we did it, so I would know how to spell the names properly.

“Right. Of course. Sorry.” I scribbled something in her book. Then I handed it back to her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, peering at me with concern.

“Um, yeah. Sorry. Just a little tired.”

“She’s fine,” Darla butted in. “Now if you want a picture, make it quick. We’ve got a lot of people to get through.”

The girl—Mandy—did want a picture and so I posed, baring my teeth in my best recreation of a smile. Then Mandy said goodbye, that it was a true honor to meet me. And I felt a little guilty that I had basically slept walked through our entire encounter. A meeting she claimed she would remember for the rest of her life. And it had barely registered in my troubled brain.

She walked away and the next reader stepped up to the desk. I signed his book. I took a photo. He walked away. Over and over, rinse and repeat. The seemingly never-ending line snaking through the bookstore. I signed and signed, trying to keep focused. To not think about how pathetically unimportant this all was. Mundane and useless. Here I was, signing books about vampires. When a real vampire might be in danger—because of me.

I had made it about halfway through the line when the sensation came over me. A sudden feeling that something was wrong. I looked up, just in time to catch a strange movement by the door. Almost a blur, hard to see. The hairs of my neck stood on end and a chill tripped down my spine. My heart pounded in my chest and I tried to tell myself I was jumping at shadows.

But then I saw it again. Closer this time. Was there someone there? Someone from the other world?

And, if so, what did they want?

Panic seized me. What if it was Slayer, Inc.? What if Logan’s deal fell through and now I was back on their hit list. I was vulnerable here. A sitting duck. They could swoop in and take me away.

I dropped my pen. It fell to the floor with a clatter. Pushing back on my chair, I rose to my feet.

“Hannah! What are you doing?”

I could hear Darla’s voice. But it sounded as if it was coming from a vacuum. Far away and muffled. I shook my head.

“I…I have to go.”

“Now? But we have at least another hour left. All these people have been waiting—”

“I’m sorry. They’ll have to come back. I have to go! Now!”

And with that, I turned and fled the bookstore. I could hear the dismayed fans behind me. Their protests. They’d been waiting in line for hours, some of them. And I felt truly bad for disappointing them.

But I couldn’t help it. I had to get out of there. Now.

Though where I would go, I had no idea.